To Save Sir (Doms of Decadence 7)

“What happened next?”

She stiffened. “They came for me. One of them was yelling something, but I couldn’t understand him. They undid the cuff then dragged me out of the hut and into the middle of the clearing. It was late afternoon, and they all wore those bandanas over their faces, so all I could see were there eyes. I was shivering, and still trying to recover from the aftereffects of whatever they’d drugged me with. I tried to talk with them, to ask why they’d brought me there, what they wanted.” She let out a sob. “But they didn’t say anything. One of them just grabbed my arms, pinning them behind my back while another one beat on me. Oh, God, I’ve never been hurt like that. I mean, I had a few fights as a kid, but this was . . . it was . . . they never even talked, you know? They just hit me, over and over. Others stood around watching as though it was something they saw every day. No one tried to stop them. No one tried to interfere. Long after I thought I couldn’t take anymore I was just dropped to the ground. I lay there, so sore I couldn’t move. I could barely breathe. As I lay there I heard one of them call for a camera.”

“Wait, you heard one of them?” He knew his voice was too tight, too low, but he could barely control the rage engulfing him.

“Yes.”

“So he spoke English. The ransom demand came through via your father’s email, but the address it came from was a fake account and it was pinged through so many satellites, we couldn’t pin down the one used to send it. In the video, though, the person spoke very broken English with a thick accent.”

“This guy he . . . he spoke really clean English. He was well-spoken. I think, maybe, he sounded British.”

“Did you see him?”

“No. My eyes were swollen shut, and I was in such pain I couldn’t even move. When they put me into position to take pictures, I could barely understand what was going on. After they took the photos, they dumped me back into that hut and secured the cuff on my ankle again. They pretty much ignored me after that. Just brought me food and emptied that horrible slop bucket. Sometimes I sang to myself. All I could remember were Christmas carols; it’s a wonder they didn’t shoot me just for that.”

“Don’t,” he said in a low voice.

She raised her eyebrows. “Too soon to joke?”

He was pretty sure that fifty years from now would still be too soon for him to joke about what happened to her.

“And you never heard them speak again?”

“No. At least not in English. I could hear them outside talking sometimes. That was actually a relief. I worried they’d just leave me there to die from dehydration.”

“Did they touch you?”

“Touch me?”

“Sexually. Did they rape you?”

She stiffened in his arms, but he wouldn’t let her climb off his lap. He knew he should. He should put distance between them, but after hearing everything he couldn’t let go of her. He needed her closer than ever.

“No, they didn’t touch me sexually,” she said in such a quiet voice he had to strain to hear her.

Thank God.

He grasped her chin, tilting her head up so he could look into her eyes. She tried to move her gaze away but he tightened his hold slightly. “Look at me.”

She sighed and met his gaze, her blue eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“You’re telling me the truth?” he asked in a firm voice.

“Yes.”

“Good. Because you always have to tell me the truth, understand? Even if it hurts. I won’t ever accept lies.”

He knew by the way her eyes widened he’d spoken too harshly.

“You should have taken someone with you to therapy today.”

She blinked slowly. “Like who?”

“Your mom or dad. You shouldn’t try to go through this alone.”

“And you think having one of my parents with me would make it better?” she asked in disbelief. “My mother would tell me she’d told me not to go to Sudan. Then she’d launch into a speech about how terrified she’d been, how horrible it had been for her wondering if I was dead or alive, imagining everything that could have happen to me. Then I’d end up apologizing to her for everything.”

He knew from the way she spoke this wasn’t just a guess. What the hell was her mother thinking? She should be trying to do everything she could to help her daughter through this.